


No One Else to Blame

by Lyviel



Series: Inquisitor Elden [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-24 03:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7491960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyviel/pseuds/Lyviel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian wasn’t sure how or even when he had fallen so completely for the Inquisitor. He knew it was incredibly foolish, particularly with the war raging around them, but none of that seemed to matter when he studied Elden's profile or contemplated the warmth of their fingers laced together. Dorian knew this couldn't last but he never could have foreseen just how spectacularly it would all go wrong. Or that he would be the one left holding the knife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> They were on their way back to Skyhold, another mission successfully accomplished, and all Dorian could think about was pulling the inquisitor aside for a proper celebration once they were safely inside the fortress. Preferably somewhere secluded where they wouldn’t be disturbed of course.
> 
> Unfortunately, getting back in one piece would prove to be more of an ordeal than any of them would have expected. They used this road through the Frostback Mountains frequently enough, perhaps it was only a matter of time before they were ambushed.
> 
> Title comes from Breathe Me by Sia because I am awful at titles  
> 

No matter how many times they returned to the Frostback Mountains, Dorian was always surprised by how bitterly cold they were. He trudged along behind the others, pulling his cloak as tightly around himself as he could and using a bit of magic to warm his frozen hands. Still, he couldn’t be completely miserable. They had succeeded, saved another village from certain doom, and generally left the world a slightly better place. And he hadn’t seen Elden happier in some time.

The general doom and gloom that usually accompanied the possibility of an apocalypse was bad enough, but the politics were just uncalled for. It was enough to even get to Elden, who was usually so insufferably cheerful. Sure, he hid it well, but Dorian knew better. He was probably the only one who had managed to get close enough to see it, the fear and the despair and all of this riding on him alone. Maker, Dorian was in far too deep. From the moment he had met the Inquisitor he knew he’d do anything to ease just a fraction of the burden he bore. The things he wouldn’t do for a smile.

But right now Elden _was_ smiling, his mood lifted considerably by their success. He was talking to Varric, recounting a tale Dorian couldn’t quite hear over the howling of the wind. Blackwall was leading the way and even he was smiling as he turned to comment on the conversation. Dorian picked up his pace a little, knowing that the sooner they returned the sooner he could pull Elden aside and make sure that smile stayed in place as long as possible.

When the rumbling started, it could be heard even above the howling of the wind, but it was the ground shaking under their feet that brought them all to a halt.

“There’s someone up there,” Blackwall shouted back to them as he drew his sword, pointing up the steep slope above them with his free hand, but Dorian couldn’t see anything.

They all followed suit, drawing their own weapons, but Dorian guessed what was coming and knew that wouldn’t help. There was an explosion far up on the mountain and for a moment he thought that maybe nothing would happen. But then the entire mountainside shook again as the snow clinging to it gave way. It came crashing down towards them and there was no chance of outrunning it. The avalanche would sweep them all away, crushing and burying them under its weight.

Dorian acted more out of reflex than anything. He threw out his arms and pulled up a barrier that was wide enough to shield all four of them, barely managing to brace himself before the impact. The snow crashed into it with such a force that he feared his arms might break and he was fairly certain he heard his staff crack, threatening to splinter under the sheer weight of the magic he was forcing through it. His eyes dimmed and he knew he was in danger of passing out from the amount of magic he was pouring into the spell, too much too fast, and he wasn’t sure if the deafening roar was from the blood rushing in his ears or the crashing of snow and rocks all around them.

He heard Elden call his name, perhaps knowing he was putting too much into the spell as he ran towards him. Dorian had already been exhausted, drained from travel and all of the battles. He wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer, but he had to. Just a bit longer. Then Dorian felt it, the danger Elden was trying to save him from. The road under his feet groaned ominously as cracks began sprouting around him, cutting him off from the others and he realized just how close to the edge he was. The road had always been unsettlingly narrow, the drop into the ravine beyond frighteningly steep. This path had brought them home countless times, but it seemed this would be its last.

He could see Elden running towards him and he redoubled his efforts, putting as much into the barrier as he could, hoping it would last long enough to protect them all from the avalanche. Then, with a silent apology, he sent ice snaking out across the ground to freeze around Elden’s boots, stopping him in his tracks. Dorian could see the horror in Elden’s eyes as he extended his hand out to him, still too far to reach. If he came any closer, the ground could collapse sending them both over the edge and he couldn’t risk that. He would _not_ let Elden fall with him.

With one final bit of effort, he threw the barrier forward, hoping to redirect the avalanche around them so they wouldn’t be swept away. Dorian felt the last of his magic slip away and he staggered, exhausted and completely spent. Everything was still for a moment and he smiled apologetically at Elden as he took a tentative step forward. But then he felt the ground finally give way beneath him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. As he fell, Dorian was vaguely satisfied to see that the ice holding Elden in place was also serving to strengthen the path so the others wouldn’t fall as well.

This was always the best outcome, wasn’t it? He had tried to stand against the injustice of his homeland. He was only one man, but he had done what he could to undo some of the pain Tevinter had caused. He had never expected to get through any of this alive anyway. Martyrdom had always been his best option. Perhaps through his death he could inspire others to do the right thing, to outright reject the Venatori and help put a stop to them. Unlikely, of course, given his pariah status. No, chances were his death would go unnoticed and un-mourned in his home country.

And Elden. Maker, the man deserved so much better. Dorian had tried to do all he could for him, comforting him and being there for him however he could, but it would never be enough. It was better this way too. Perhaps Elden could finally find someone worthy of his kindness, of his gentleness and warmth. _Maker, if there’s any good left in this world,_ please _, just let him be happy._ That was unlikely too, of course. This world was far too cruel.

Dorian was swallowed up by the crashing snow, no magic left to protect himself. He was thrown about, bombarded on all sides for what felt like forever until the world finally went still. In the silence he thought he heard Elden call his name, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking. He was frozen to the core and in agony, feeling so empty. Each breath burned in his lungs, but he supposed he should be thankful that he even still could breathe. He heard footsteps nearby and the rustling of snow until he was suddenly dragged out and into the light. He blinked, trying to focus, and caught sight of feet that definitely did not belong to Elden or the others, before darkness finally took him.

-

There were flashes of biting pain, fear and horror and an overwhelming concern for Elden’s safety before Dorian finally came to. His entire body ached, but then he remembered his trip down the side of the mountain and supposed he was doing rather well considering. He still felt empty, his magic drained and out of his reach. His shoulder ached, pressed into a hard uneven surface he could only guess was stone, and his hands were twisted painfully behind his back. And he was still exceptionally cold. Well, there was no use delaying the inevitable. He opened his eyes.

As expected, he was lying on the floor of a cave, his hands tied behind him. He pulled at the rope experimentally, feeling it bite into his wrists, but it held. Still, if he could buy himself time enough for his magic to return, he should be able to burn his way free. He could hear wind howling past the mouth of the cave, but it was deep enough that he couldn’t see the exit from where he lay. There were a few men nearby pacing restlessly, a single torch casting harsh shadows.

“Well,” Dorian said, attempting to sit up. “If you insist on holing up in a cave you could at least light a proper fire, give the place a bit more cheer if not comfort.”

No one said anything. No one even looked in his direction. Right then, so that’s how this was going to be. He scooted back and leaned against the stone wall of the cave, trying to find a position that wasn’t completely uncomfortable.

“So what is this, then, a kidnapping? You’re obviously Venatori, but what exactly did you expect to accomplish with so few numbers?”

Still no reply. They all simply stood there, grim and determined, weapons at the ready. That was odd. Perhaps Elden and the others were already on their way? He closed his eyes, trying to will his magic back. It didn’t exactly work that way, but at this point it was worth a shot.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a sharp cry and the clash of weapons outside and he looked up at the group. They were so grim and serious, one by one filing out of the cave. They didn’t really look like they expected to get out of this alive. Perhaps that’s all this was, then. A last-ditch effort to get back at the Inquisitor so that they wouldn’t have to return to their masters empty handed. The avalanche had failed and Dorian had made himself such a convenient and tempting opportunity by getting himself separated from the others. He couldn’t blame them for trying, at least.

The fighting was getting closer, but Dorian still didn’t have his magic back. He focused whatever he could scrape together on his wrists, slowly singeing away at the rope, but it wasn’t fast enough. Elden came charging into the chamber suddenly, shield-bashing the closest opponent before locking swords with the second. But there was still a third hiding in the shadows in a perfect position to strike Elden from behind.

This couldn’t happen. Elden couldn’t be in danger because of him. Dorian panicked, pulling magic he hadn’t realized he still had hiding away and ripped his hands free of the rope, shouting Elden’s name as he threw a burst of fire towards the hidden opponent and sent him flying. The force of it nearly knocked Dorian unconscious again and he sagged back heavily, simply relieved that Elden had the upper hand again.

As soon as he struck down the remaining Venatori, Elden all but cast his sword and shield to the ground as he fell to his knees in front of Dorian, looking relieved, like an impossible weight had been lifted and he might collapse from the relief.

“Are you all right?” Elden asked, voice shaky as he gently touched Dorian’s cheek.

“Of course,” Dorian said, trying for an arch smile, but he wasn’t sure it was particularly successful.

He was a bit overwhelmed, to say the least. Dorian wasn’t completely sure how to feel. He was touched that Elden had been so desperate to find him and that he cared so much for his safety. Not that Dorian ever thought otherwise; Elden was a very caring and kind person, after all, and he had made his feelings towards Dorian as obvious as possible. It was just that Dorian had very little experience being on the receiving end of this sort of attention. He had no idea how to react and somehow Elden managed to keep doing this to him, kept leaving him speechless.

“Thank the Maker,” Elden said in a rush as he wrapped his arms around Dorian and pulled him into a tight embrace. It was all Dorian could do to wrap his arms around Elden’s neck, hold onto him as he placed a kiss to his ear, whispering reassurances. Elden pulled away much too soon. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I imagine my armor isn’t all that comfortable.”

Sure it was cold and dug in uncomfortably through Dorian’s robes, but he hardly cared, just wanting to hold him tight, reassure him and make him smile again. And to reassure himself as well, with that lingering concern for Elden’s safety he didn’t understand. Perhaps he had had a bad dream while he was unconscious? But besides that, suddenly Dorian realized that he didn’t want to die. He had all of this, the Inquisition, a home, a place to belong and friends. And he had Elden, a man so kind and good and who cared so deeply for him. Dorian had been so sure that coming south would be his end, but instead it had been everything he had sought in his life.

Dorian still expected all of this to come crashing down around him of course. He had expected Elden to grow bored and move on like every other man he had been with. But it had become impossible to believe that, not with the way Elden spoke to him, held him, _looked_ at him. Of course, the world wasn’t kind enough to let them have this for long anyway. This was all still likely to end in death, and Elden’s life was in more danger than most.

Which was all the more reason they shouldn’t be sitting here like this. They were still in danger and unless he wanted to risk Elden they needed to get going. Besides, he felt incredibly vulnerable as well, unsure how to handle all of this let alone how to react, so deflection was probably the best course of action.

“You realize this was all completely unnecessary, yes?”

“Oh?” Elden helped him to his feet before reclaiming his weapons.

“Of course, I had this under control. I freed my hands, didn’t I?” Dorian said, winning a hesitant smile from the Inquisitor.

“What can I say?” Elden replied. “You were taking too long.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry, I wasn’t aware that freeing myself mere minutes after regaining consciousness was considered slow. Next time I’ll shoot for--”

“What?” Elden’s smile faltered as he interrupted. He looked down at the charred rope that had been tied around Dorian’s wrists where it lay on the ground, still gently smoldering. “You mean you only just came to?” Elden looked back up at him, obviously concerned. “You’ve been gone since yesterday.”

Ah. That wasn’t exactly an encouraging thought. “They must have had me out the entire time,” he said with a flippancy he didn’t entirely feel. “Well, in that case, what took _you_ so long?”

Perhaps that wasn't the best way to lighten the mood. Elden looked away guiltily as he spoke. “They led us all around the mountains. For a while I wasn’t sure we’d make it in time.”

Dorian did not like the guilt and worry in Elden’s eyes. There was a lot here he needed to consider, but right now wiping that expression away and getting somewhere safe were Dorian’s priorities. “Well, since I’m so well rested and I seem to have missed out on all of the fun, what say we go find someone else I can set on fire, hmm?”

Varric and Blackwall were waiting just outside, weapons at the ready, but there didn’t seem to be any more Venatori in the area left alive.

“Sparkler,” Varric said with a relieved sigh. “You all right?”

“Quite well, actually,” Dorian said. Truth be told he really did feel fine despite the general ache. “They must have been too busy fleeing from you barbarians to ever have a chance to question me.”

“That’s one good thing, I suppose,” Blackwall said.

It had been such a dramatic buildup that Dorian was actually rather disappointed by the uneventful trek back to Skyhold. Elden kept close by his side and Dorian would have liked to call it “annoyingly close” except for the fact that he appreciated it. He didn’t even make a token complaint when Elden’s hand found his own.


	2. Chapter 2

Once they had returned to Skyhold, Elden was regretfully whisked away to give his usual report to the advisors. Before leaving, however, he did ask Dorian to meet him in his quarters. Dorian was, of course, more than happy to comply. He’d barely managed to clean up and change by the time Elden returned. Elden had also changed out of his armor and Dorian was relieved that he didn’t seem to have any new injuries.

“And we’re back, safe and sound,” Dorian said, unsure why he was suddenly feeling so hesitant. Perhaps it was seeing how desperately Elden had fought for him, how frantic he had looked at the possibility of losing him. No one had ever looked at Dorian that way before.

“I almost lost you,” Elden said, looking so overwhelmed, like he had no idea what to do with himself. It was rather adorable.

Dorian decided to take pity on him and moved closer, resting his hands on Elden’s hips. At least with this he was on firmer ground. “But you didn’t.”

Elden brought his hands up to frame Dorian’s face, thumbs stroking over cheekbones. “Are you really all right?” he asked, peering into his eyes as if searching for any sign of discomfort.

“Completely,” Dorian replied with a smile. His general aches and pains were inconsequential and he ignored the headache that still lurked in the back of his skull. It was nothing time and a little rest wouldn’t heal. More important was reassuring Elden, making him smile again.

“Thank the Maker,” Elden breathed as he kissed him.

Elden was so gentle, the kiss so tender and yet it still managed to take Dorian’s breath away. He wanted to keep kissing him and never stop but instead pulled away. He wasn’t even sure why he was doing it. Perhaps it was to look into Elden’s eyes, so green and beautiful and Dorian couldn’t help but smile fondly even as the depths of emotion he saw there nearly overwhelmed him. His headache throbbed but he ignored it.

Suddenly Elden’s expression twisted into one of pain and confusion and he slumped forward, grasping at Dorian as if he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. Dorian caught him reflexively, unsure what was happening as he lowered him to the floor as gently as he could, feeling a numb terror like a weight in the pit of his stomach. Elden was looking up at him, his mouth working as if he was trying to speak, but no words came. Dorian’s hand felt oddly warm and he looked down to see it covered in blood, gripping a dagger that was buried in Elden’s side.

“No,” Dorian whispered, his sluggish mind refusing to accept the horror of what he was seeing but knowing he had to, his chest feeling so tight he thought it might split open. Finally, it all caught up to him and he began shouting in a panic. “Someone help! Please!” As if someone could stop this from happening. As if this could ever be undone. He tried to brush the hair from Elden’s eyes, leaving a smear of blood across his temple and Dorian felt like he was falling. _This can’t be real, please don’t let it be real._ “Please,” he whispered as he leaned over Elden as if he could shield him from what had already happened, “please don’t--”

His voice hitched and there were no words left and he just clung to Elden, pressing down hard, trying to stop the bleeding, but there was just so much blood. No matter what he did it just kept flowing. He was never any good at spirit magic and healing but he called on all of his knowledge and ability and poured whatever magic he had left into Elden. He still felt empty and drained from his earlier casting but he’d pour his very life into it if he could. He cursed himself and every time he had skipped or dropped out of a class because no matter how powerful he was, how smart he was, none of it mattered if he lost the only person that mattered. He _couldn’t--_

He heard the footsteps of Inquisition soldiers on the stairs, but it was all too late to stop this nightmare. Elden reached up and took hold of his wrist, something like understanding and peace in his eyes, and, Maker, was he trying to comfort _him_? Dorian wanted to scream and bring the entirety of Skyhold down around him and it still wouldn’t be enough, nothing would ever be enough again after what he had done.

Suddenly there were people all around and they were taking Elden from him. Dorian was forced to step away, still grasping Elden’s hand until he slipped completely out of his reach. Dorian stood but his legs refused to cooperate. He staggered back, leaning heavily against the wall, gripping his left wrist, the one that had held the dagger, as if it didn’t belong to him anymore, just standing there watching the blood drip to the floor as they took Elden away from him.

He was transfixed by a particularly large drop of Elden’s blood as he watched it slip down to his fingertip. The sound of the chaos around him died away as he watched, just trying desperately to remember what had happened. He cared for Elden so much, he had never wanted to harm him, so how had any of this happened? He couldn’t even remember drawing the dagger, let alone even wanting to.

Of course, his intent hardly mattered now with Elden’s blood on his hands. This was always how it went, wasn’t it? Perhaps not exactly but if Dorian was good at anything it was fucking everything up. Things had been going far too well between the two of them and they couldn’t have that, now could they? Had he truly thought that he could have this? That he could find happiness and—and affection? That Elden could truly care for him and they could be happy like some sort of fairy tale? That Elden would want him after even if they survived Corypheus?

Of course not, Dorian realized as the drop finally fell, splattering onto the stone floor below. He ruined everything he touched. He didn’t deserve happiness and he certainly didn’t deserve Elden. He should have known this was always going to be how it ended. He could only hurt the ones he cared about and he should have spared Elden this. He should have done so much more. But that was all selfish as well, wasn’t? He wanted to comfort Elden for himself, to have him for himself. Dorian should have just kept away, he never should have come south. He was like a disease, corrupting and destroying everything in his path. Elden was good and kind and he had never wanted to hurt him. _Maker, what had he done?_

“Dorian.” Leliana’s voice was much colder than Dorian had ever heard it and he flinched, snapped out of his reverie.

“Tell us what happened,” Josephine said much more gently from where she stood behind Leliana.

“Where is he?” Dorian asked, not taking his eyes away from his hand. “I want to see him.”

“We need to know what happened first,” Cullen said. “Was there someone else here?”

“Of course there was no one else here,” Leliana snapped. She held up the dagger so Dorian could see it and he thought he might be violently ill. Somehow he held himself together. “Where did you get this?”

“I don’t know,” Dorian said rather numbly.

“You don’t know?” Leliana said, voice dangerous.

“Yes, repeating everything I say in a skeptical tone will definitely help the situation,” Dorian snapped, finally meeting their eyes as he let the fury take hold. It was easier. “Shouldn’t you be out there doing your job? Actually protecting the Inquisitor?”  
  
Leliana grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against the wall. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now?”

There was no answer to that. Of course she should kill him. Why wouldn’t she just get it over with? She was wasting time, _just help Elden please_.

“Please, Leliana. It’s Dorian,” Josephine said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“He’s Tevinter,” Leliana replied, not taking her eyes off him, as if studying his reaction. “We never should have trusted him.”

“Elden did,” Cullen pointed out.  
  
“And look where that got him,” she said, shoving Dorian back against the wall again as she released him. “Get him out of my sight.”

Dorian was all but dragged away. He was vaguely surprised when they took him to his quarters, but he didn’t dwell on that. Instead he pulled himself free from his guards and went inside with as much dignity as he could muster, slamming the door shut behind him.

Once alone, he went immediately to the wash basin. He scrubbed violently at his hands; the blood, _Elden’s_ blood, felt like it was staining him, branding him to the bone, and he doubted he’d ever truly be clean of it. He tried not to think, he didn’t want to remember the feel of it, warm as it dripped over his fingers, slippery around the hilt of the dagger, or the way it flowed through his fingers as he pressed his hands over the wound. He didn’t want to think about the way Elden had looked at him, so confused and in pain but his eyes were soft, still trying to comfort him in the end--

Dorian knocked the basin off of the table, sending the crimson-stained water spilling across the floor, just wanting everything to _stop_. He dug his hands into his hair, pulling until his scalp ached, knowing he deserved far worse. Looking down he saw that there was blood splattered across his robes and he ripped them off, casting them into the fire without a second thought. He knocked his desk over in a rage before pulling the dresser down and as it crashed against the floor, he broke as well. All of his rage dissipated and he collapsed to the ground, curling in on himself as he sobbed, left with nothing but the image of Elden holding his hand with whatever strength he had left. This couldn't be happening _. Maker, how could this be happening?_


	3. Chapter 3

Dorian wasn’t sure how long he sat there, his eyes burning and his throat aching, feeling utterly numb. He felt worse after his outburst, not better. He had no right to feel this way, not after what he had done. He never wanted to move again. He just wanted to let the stone absorb him and cease to exist. Maybe then the memory of Elden’s blood on his hand would finally leave him. 

That wasn’t an option, of course, and he owed it to Elden to face his fate, to do what he could to repair some of the damage with whatever was let of his short life. Not that he would ever be able to make up for hurting Elden. A thousand lifetimes wouldn’t be enough. Maker, he just wanted to see him again, to know he was all right.

He sighed. Sitting here feeling sorry for himself certainly wasn’t helping anyone. He stood, feeling the need to make himself more presentable. That was always what he did, compose himself, make sure his appearance didn’t reflect what he was feeling, so no one would have the satisfaction of watching as he fell apart.

He rarely used this room anymore. He’d taken to spending his nights in the Inquisitor’s quarters, keeping this one mostly for appearance’s sake and his own peace of mind. Luckily he still had some clothes here. Once he had dressed, he did what he could to clean off the kohl that had left streaks down his face. There was nothing he could do about his red eyes, but by the time he had finished fixing his hair there was a knock at the door.

That was certainly surprising. He had expected someone to come barging in to drag him away, as would be fitting for a prisoner who had attempted to assassinate the Inquisitor. Still, it was odd enough that he had been taken to his own quarters instead of the prison where would-be assassins were usually kept. He was tempted to not answer and see how long they’d wait, but perhaps it was best not to prolong this. He put on his best fake smile and opened the door.

Cassandra and the Iron Bull were waiting on the other side. It was interesting seeing the differences in their demeanors after the tentative friendships he had struck up with them. Cassandra looked furious, like she had been the one he had stabbed. Given her friendship with the Inquisitor, perhaps this was worse. The Iron Bull for his part looked calm, as one would expect from a spy, whatever he was feeling locked quietly away where Dorian could never hope to truly see.

It was obvious why they had sent Cassandra. She could neutralize his magic as easily as any Templar if necessary. Not that he had any magic to spare at the moment, as he still felt drained from everything that had happened. Bull’s presence was a mystery, however. Perhaps he was there to highlight how ironic it was that the Qunari spy had turned out to be the trustworthy one while the Tevinter runaway had been the one to betray them all.

“It’s about time you got here,” Dorian said with a levity that he certainly didn’t feel. “Where are we off to now, then? I trust you’ve constructed some gallows in my honor?”

Cassandra sneered at the tasteless joke. “The war room.”

“Right then, off we go.” Dorian led the way, not even bothering to see if they would follow. He just wanted this over.

-

The advisors were waiting for him in the war room, like they were lined up against him. Ah yes, standing tall against the loathing stares; it was just like back home. He tried to ignore the fact that this time it was friends looking at him this way.

“Tell us what happened,” Leliana demanded.

“You saw what happened,” Dorian snapped, irritated. Was she still on about this? It was pointless. There was nothing more to talk about. “I think your healers can give you a better description of his wounds than I.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Does it really matter?” Dorian asked. “You know what happened, why are we still talking?”

Leliana narrowed her eyes. Maker, why couldn’t she just _end_ it already? “Answer my question,” she said.

“Look at the facts, I’m not even denying anything!”

“We don’t do any of this lightly,” Leliana said. “We need to understand what happened. Why now, so suddenly? It’s no secret you’ve been spending most of your time with the Inquisitor these days.”

“And I told you it doesn’t matter,” Dorian said, losing his temper. This was agonizing. He didn’t know what to say to them, let alone to Elden. There were no excuses for his actions, even if he had no idea why he had done any of it. It was done, and that was all there was to it. If anyone else had been found standing over the Inquisitor with a bloody knife, they’d have been dealt with already. “I’ve admitted to everything, so why are we still talking?”

“The Inquisitor is dead,” Leliana said.  

 _Dead_. She said it with such finality, because there was nothing else, no hope.

Dorian staggered back as if he had been struck. No, he couldn’t, he _couldn’t_ be dead. Maker, what had he done? Why was this happening? Leliana’s words echoed in his mind, blocking out all other thought. Elden was dead. Dorian had killed him. He felt frozen to his very core. He had taken the one good thing in his life, the one truly good person in all the world, and destroyed it. This kind man, more wonderful than he had any right to be, and Dorian cared for him more than anyone else he had ever known. And Dorian’s affection had poisoned everything like it always did. He had killed the only man who had ever mattered. He couldn’t—Maker, what had he done?

“ _No_ ,” he whispered, swaying as he nearly fell. Nothing mattered. Nothing would ever matter again. Maker, how could he have done this?

“We need to know what happened, why you did it,” Leliana prompted.

“I don’t know,” Dorian said, “I don’t remember.” He tried to, he really did, but there was just nothing, just Elden’s eyes, his beautiful pale green eyes that he’d never see again, his warm arms around him as he held him close, comforting, and now they were gone. He himself had taken them away. Maker, Elden deserved so much better, why had any of this happened? Dorian always knew one or both of them would end up dead before this was over but not like this, never like this.

“Not good enough,” Leliana said. “What about before—“

“Before I killed him?” Dorian cut in. “Before I murdered the Inquisitor? You mean before all of that?”

“Yes,” Leliana said without missing a beat. “Who are you working for?”

“Working for?” Dorian repeated automatically, not understanding the question.

“Have you been with the Venatori the entire time?”

“What? No!”

“Did they finally give you instructions to kill the Inquisitor after you managed to gain his trust?”

“How dare you!” Dorian said, because he had left everything to come south, but he stopped. He hated the Venatori, what they stood for and what they had done to his mentor, his friend, but the rest was true, wasn’t it? He knew Elden trusted him. They had become close and Dorian had betrayed all of that, just as the rumors said he would.

Leliana’s gaze was pure steel. “Then why did you do it?”

“I don't know,” Dorian said, sagging, no anger left because it might as well have been true. He might as well have been working for them.

“You don't know? You expect me to believe that?”

“Believe whatever you like,” he said in defeat. It was all just so pointless. “It doesn’t matter anyway, he’s dead after all.” He wished he’d never come south. He had wanted to make a difference even if it all ended in his death, but instead he had killed the only man-- “Why are we still talking about this? Why am I even still alive? Any other assassin would have been disposed of long ago. You’ve clearly figured this all out, so I’d appreciate it if you could just get this over with already!”

“No,” Cullen snapped. “You aren’t leaving this room until you tell us everything we want to know, every last detail whether you want to or not.”

“Please,” Josephine prompted, tears in her eyes. “Just give us something we can use, anything, even if you think it might be inconsequential.”

Dorian couldn’t see why. What was the point if Elden was dead? No, he should call him the Inquisitor. He didn’t deserve to use his name anymore, not after what he had done. Maker, was this really happening? He just wanted this all to end. Maybe if he gave them something they would end it. He didn’t deserve to be here or alive after he had hurt him, he certainly didn’t deserve it now that he knew he had killed him. “When I woke up I remembered being concerned for the Inquisitor, but that hardly matters now. It was only a dream, after all.” It was ironic in retrospect. Painfully so.

“Emotions with no memories and I’ve been told you have nearly an entire day missing,” Vivienne said as she entered, brushing past Cassandra and the Iron Bull. “Tell me, darling. Have you been experiencing any headaches? Any trouble focusing or persistent aches since your untimely captivity?”

“How do you imagine you’d feel after taking a tumble down a mountain?” Dorian couldn’t help but snap. “What exactly are you implying?”

“Emotions are much more difficult to erase than memories. Blood magic is a possibility we should consider, my dear.”

“You must be joking,” Dorian scoffed. He had seen the fear and desperation in the faces of the Venatori who had captured him. If any of them had attempted to cast anything so sophisticated, Dorian would surely recognize the burning hangover such a sloppy spell would cause. “It would take someone of considerable skill to perform such a thing. Are you really suggesting such a ragtag group could possibly cast it? On me, of all people?”

“It would be a neat trick, wouldn’t it?” Vivienne continued. “And rather ironic too, casting it on the only Tevinter fighting on our side and forcing him to kill the Inquisitor.”

“Vivienne,” Dorian said, teeth gritted. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but—“

“And where exactly did you get a knife like that?” Vivienne interrupted. “Such an interesting design, with the skull and snakes. I haven’t seen another like it. It definitely looks Tevinter. Did you bring it with you?”

“That’s—“ Dorian began, but stopped. Where _had_ he gotten it?

“Don’t be so quick to sacrifice yourself, my dear. It would be a pointless waste.”

But it was all pointless now without Elden, wasn’t it? “It doesn’t matter, none of it does. _Kaffas_ , Leliana, just end this already. You can’t seriously be considering—”

“Leliana, please,” Josephine said, interrupting him.

“No, we still don’t know—“

“Of course we do! Surely you’ve heard enough,” Josephine said before turning to Dorian. “Elden is alive. He’s badly hurt but he’s alive. The healers are with him now.”

“What?” Dorian asked, turning on Leliana, not allowing himself to believe it.

“Yes,” Leliana replied coolly.

“You were going to let me believe that I—that he—“ Dorian’s voice failed him and he backed away from her, too angry to really form the words.

“How could we trust you if you wouldn’t even tell us what happened?” Leliana said. It was cruel yet practical, although Dorian thought the blade of her dagger would have been kinder.  
  
“I think it’s fairly clear some form of blood magic is at play here,” Vivienne interjected. “Conveniently difficult to prove, of course, but the alternative implies he was able to so thoroughly fool us all, which seems highly unlikely.”

“Thanks for that,” Dorian said bitterly. He couldn't bring himself to care about that right now. It didn’t seem right to hope he was innocent when he had betrayed Elden. But he pushed all of that out of his mind. Elden was the only thing that mattered. If he was alive, truly alive, he had to see for himself, to know that he would be safe before whatever was to happen next. “I want to see Elden. Immediately.”

“No,” Leliana said.

“No, you don’t get to make that decision, not after you lied to me. I demand to see him before anything else.”

Leliana studied him for a moment before looking to Vivienne. Dorian didn’t take his eyes off of Leliana, but whatever signal she received seemed to be enough, because after a moment she nodded.

-

Dorian came to a stop before the door to the infirmary, suddenly uncertain. He needed to know that Elden was alive, that he was going to be okay, but that was ultimately a selfish wish, wasn’t it? How could he truly be all right after what Dorian had done to him? And how could Dorian face him? It was selfish too but he didn’t want to see the betrayal in his eyes, or the pain he had caused. He had to, though. He owed it to Elden to give him this, so he took a deep breath before pushing into Elden’s room and there he was, sitting up in a bed even, and blessedly alive despite the bandages across his torso, his pale complexion and the dark circles under his eyes.

“You look terrible,” Elden said and Dorian was surprised that he was able to muster a smile that looked so genuine. Maker, the world didn’t deserve this man.

“A far sight better than you, I imagine,” Dorian replied.

He had only taken a few steps into the room when he came to a stop, realizing he was afraid to even get close to Elden. Dorian ruined everything he touched, so he supposed it was only a matter of time before he ruined this, but he couldn’t risk hurting Elden again. He tried to look relaxed and at ease as he crossed to the window and leaned against the frame, as if he wasn’t standing in the room with a man he cared for greatly and had tried to kill mere hours before. As if Cassandra wasn’t waiting silently near the door ready to nullify his magic or simply kill him outright if he made any sudden movements.

Unfortunately, Elden saw right through him, as he had a terrible habit of doing. “How are you feeling?” he asked with more concern than he should. Why was he always doing that, caring so much when he had no right to? Didn’t he know how dangerous it was?

“Oh, very well as I’m sure you can imagine,” Dorian said with more sarcasm than he had intended.

“I hope the others haven’t been giving you any trouble?”

“Considering the state of things, I’m surprised I’m not locked up.” How was he supposed to have a casual conversation with this man? He felt the desire to apologize, but that would be for himself, wouldn’t it? He certainly didn’t deserve to be forgiven, that was for sure.

“Dorian,” Elden said, but seemed to think better of whatever he had been about to say. Instead he sighed. “Won't you come here?” he asked, reaching out to Dorian.

“I’m not so sure that’s wise,” Dorian said, trying to sound light, trying to make this easy on the both of them. “I imagine there’s some sort of distance I’m supposed to keep, otherwise Cassandra will come charging in here after my head. I’m actually surprised she let me in the room at all.”

“I asked her to.”

“Just like that?” Dorian asked, appalled, finally looking Elden in the eye. He’d barely realized he was avoiding looking at him. “I nearly kill you and you aren’t afraid I’ll try it again?”

“Do you want to?” he asked, as if he was genuinely curious and not at all concerned about his response.

Maker, he was infuriating. Did he have any idea how dangerous all of this was? He could have died! Dorian could have killed him! “Can you really believe anything I have to say?”

“And you’re back to answering everything with a question,” Elden said, having the gall to look disappointed, as if the worst that had come out of all of this was Dorian’s evasiveness.

“Is this a game to you?” Dorian shouted. He knew he was balancing on the brink, that he had to rein himself in or lose all control of his emotions, but he couldn't help it. He was terrified and angry and he just _couldn’t_. “Do you know how _easy_ it was? I could do it again and you wouldn’t even fight back, would you?”

“It wasn’t you,” Elden said, and he sounded too certain.

“You can’t know that. You’re the only one who thinks it, anyway.”

“What about you?”

“What?”

“Dorian, I _know_ you, and I know this wasn’t your fault. Please come here.”

“You— _kaffas_ , you naïve, idiotic fool!” Dorian shouted, throwing his arms in the air as he paced restlessly, fuming. “Do you have any idea what you’re playing at here?”

He spun around to face Elden again, finger raised and ready to lecture the Inquisitor, but somehow Elden had managed to stand and approach. He was deceptively quiet when he wanted to be for such a large man. Before Dorian could react he was pulled into a tight embrace. He froze for a moment before he tried to push Elden away desperately.

“Please,” he gasped, unable to say more, his voice suddenly hoarse and unsteady.

“What?” Elden asked and he had the audacity to stroke his back gently, soothingly.

“I don’t want to hurt you again,” Dorian said, closing his eyes tightly as if that could stop all of this from happening. He couldn’t stop it before, how was he supposed to stop it now? What if he killed Elden this time? He couldn’t live with the knowledge of what he had almost done, he couldn’t—

“Then don’t push me away.”

It was too much and Dorian broke. He collapsed against Elden, relieved that his arms were still so warm, so gentle. He sobbed into Elden’s chest, clinging to him. As his legs gave out, Elden dropped with him and they knelt together there, just holding each other tightly. He remembered how Elden had reached out to him, held his hand after Dorian had stabbed him and he was so angry. Why couldn’t this infuriating man fight back, push him away, kill him? He should have defended himself. Dorian would rather die than hurt him again. But instead, like the coward he was, Dorian simply let Elden hold him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now is where you all start to see how little I know about blood magic lol. I couldn't find any reference to there being a way to test people for blood magic, but I also haven't read the books, so I'm just gonna go with what I could pull from the wiki. Feel free to hit me up if there's any lore I missed

Dorian wasn’t sure how long they sat there on the floor together. The tears had finally stopped and he felt drained and exhausted. And foolish too. Although when he caught sight of Elden’s expression he had to admit that he felt a little better. There was no judgement or disapproval there, only affection and acceptance and Dorian could only look away, overwhelmed, when Elden reached out to run a hand through his hair and kiss his cheek. Maker, how was this man always doing this to him? He wiped furiously at his face, no doubt smudging the kohl further. 

They had shifted to a more comfortable position, still wrapped in each other's’ arms. They couldn’t stay like that forever, though, and now that Dorian had some semblance of composure back he knew he should step away. He needed distance between the two of them for his own peace of mind, even though he never wanted to part from Elden again. Whether it was blood magic or something else, he could still pose a threat to the Inquisitor and while there was even a slim chance Dorian might hurt him, he couldn't risk it. 

“That’s enough of that,” Dorian said, extracting himself despite the disappointed noise it drew from Elden. Maker, he didn't have any sense of self preservation, did he? Dorian stood, brushing off his robes and attempting to straighten his appearance. A hopeless task. He looked down questioningly at Elden who had yet to move.

“Could I get a hand?” Elden asked sheepishly.

“You must be joking,” Dorian said, appalled. “You’re that injured and yet you still got up and came all the way over here?” He helped Elden up as gently as he could despite his disapproving words and supported his arm as they made their way back to the bed.

“Other things seemed more important at the time,” was all Elden offered and Dorian scoffed.

“If you’ve ripped the injury open I refuse to visit you again.” The whole way Dorian tried to inconspicuously keep his left hand behind his back, clasped in a tight fist, as if that could prevent events from repeating themselves. 

“It’s fine,” Elden protested, sinking into the bed with a grunt. As Dorian pulled away, Elden caught his hand. “I know you’re going to leave because you don’t trust yourself, but promise me you’ll come back tomorrow.”

Dorian was silent a long moment, studying his face. There was no refusing Elden, however, so finally he nodded. 

Elden gave his hand one last squeeze before he finally let it go. “We’re okay. We’ll get through this.”

It was frustrating. He should be the one comforting Elden, especially now. “You really are a fool,” Dorian sighed.

Elden had no right to give him such a radiant smile in return.

-

Cassandra and Leliana were waiting for him outside the sickroom. Cassandra fixed him with a glare as she stormed past into the room, slamming the door behind her. No doubt she was off to share her displeasure with Elden’s leniency. Good, perhaps she’ll be able to knock some sense into the good Inquisitor, get him to show a little concern for his own safety. Unfortunately that left Dorian alone with the spymaster.

“Do us both a favor and at least pretend we had a modicum of privacy in there,” Dorian said, deciding it was best to talk first instead of waiting under her intense gaze. He always did prefer shoving his foot in his mouth to silence. “I’m aware there isn’t much of my dignity left, but it would be nice to think I could keep at least a few shreds intact.”

“If pretending gives you comfort, by all means,” she said with a slight smile.

“I imagine you’re also against all this?” Dorian continued, “It does seem rather foolhardy to let me in the same room with him after everything.”

“Actually I was all for it,” Leliana said. “If you’re intention really was to kill the Inquisitor, that would have been the perfect opportunity.” 

“Indeed?” Dorian said, surprised.  “Risky. Is that it, then? You don’t suspect I might be biding my time? Waiting for another unexpected moment?”

“Oh of course, I never said I was convinced. This is my job after all.” Dorian knew better than to believe she was taking this situation lightly, but she certainly seemed calm enough. 

“Was this all even worth it then? If you didn’t learn anything?”

“Elden needed to see you,” she said more seriously, her slight smile vanishing. “And right now that was more important.”

“Really, you shouldn’t encourage him,” Dorian sighed, rubbing at his forehead.

“I’m not,” she said simply. “It’s my job to provide him with information, not to sway his decisions.”

“I see.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I may be the Inquisitor’s spymaster, but I am also his friend. His well being is my priority. I do hope you aren’t lying to him. For your sake, moreso than his. The truth is, many of us trusted you and we need to know if that was misplaced. And I’d rather be the one interrogating you than force Elden into that that role. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should probably make sure the Seeker isn’t being too hard on him.” She paused a moment and, before following Cassandra, added with a mischievous slight smile, “you should really get some rest, you look terrible.”

Dorian huffed in indignation, but couldn’t really think of a proper witty remark. He was grateful at least that Elden had her watching out for him, even if it was terrifying for himself. Once Dorian was alone, he made his way out into the great hall where he couldn’t help but notice that there were a number of templars stationed about. Of course if he asked he’d be informed that they were definitely not there to keep an eye on him and surely it was just coincidence. 

He was tempted to go off course, see if they would allow him to head to the tavern or somewhere else, see how far he could push the boundaries. As tempting as it was to go get completely plastered, somehow he didn’t really feel like testing things right now. All he wanted was to be alone. He thought of his quarters, cold and empty, now with broken furniture and blood (Elden’s blood) and water splashed across the floor, and he didn’t want to face that. Perhaps the library then? It wasn’t like he was going to be doing much sleeping anyway so he might as well find a distraction. Luckily no thuggish guards stood in his way as he headed there.

-

Dorian started out by practically ransacking the library, searching for anything that might distract him. He couldn't bring himself to actually research blood magic. He was technically fairly knowledgeable already; one didn’t live long in Tevinter without knowing what tactics one’s enemies might use against them. Still, he felt ill even considering it. Right now he just wanted his mind to stop and finding something to absorb himself in was his first course of action. He was so busy pulling down books and tossing them aside, his mind racing around in circles, that he almost didn’t notice when Sera poked her head around the corner.

“I told you,” she said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I told you not to bust out into demons. Is that what’s happening?” 

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see that she looked upset, angry and perhaps even frightened and Dorian swallowed the sharp reply he reflexively had ready. Instead he sighed. “I don’t know what’s happening, Sera.”

“Pissballs,” she snapped, “figure it out then! How could you do that to Elden of all people and not know why?”

“That’s enough, Sera,” Vivienne said and Dorian finally turned to see her walking up the stairs.

Sera muttered something too quiet to hear and Dorian didn’t say anything as she vanished around the corner again. There wasn’t really anything to say to that, was there? Vivienne drop into his usual seat in the alcove and watched him for an uncomfortable moment. Annoyed, Dorian began sorting through books on his table, only half paying attention to what he was doing.

“Tell me, my dear,” Vivienne finally began, “what sort of aches and pains have you been experiencing since the incident?”

“The incident,” Dorian echoed. He didn’t bother to turn and face her and instead went back to looking over the shelves for interesting books. “Is everyone refusing to call it what it actually was?”

“Take a seat and don’t be difficult.”

“Why not when I’m so frightfully good at it?” Dorian replied, but he at least turned to face her, arms crossed defensively.

“Indulge me for the time being and answer the question.”

“I don’t know, I was generally sore, I suppose. I had a headache?” he offered. “And yes, yes, I know, a headache can be an indication of blood magic. And it was worse before-- well, you know, before everything happened when we returned. But you do remember that I fell down a mountain in an avalanche?”

“I suppose it could have been nothing more than a concussion. Do you still have this headache?”

“No.”

“Do you know when it went away?”

“A lot has been going on, if you didn’t notice,” Dorian said in indignation, “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Could it have been immediately after?”

“I-- guess,” Dorian said, hating himself for the thrill of hope he felt. Blood magic meant it wasn’t his fault, but Elden deserved better than for Dorian to cast about wildly for anything else to blame his actions on.  Of course, to pile more confusion onto all of this, his unwillingness to consider blood magic could also be a failsafe put in place by the blood magic. How exactly were they supposed to work this out? “So what exactly is to be done?”

“I’m afraid not much. Even if we did manage to discover something, finding evidence of blood magic on a Tevinter wouldn’t exactly be a revelation. You could have been the caster or someone could have used it on you years ago. All we can really do for now is monitor you and watch for any unusual behavior."

“Lovely.” Dorian’s gut twisted unpleasantly at the insinuation that he might use blood magic after what his father had tried to do to him. Not that that mattered. It was only his word, after all, which, after stabbing the Inquisitor, wasn’t exactly worth much.

“Well,” Vivienne said, standing. “Whether it’s blood magic or not is irrelevant for the time being until we can find out what truly happened during your kidnapping. Until then, do watch yourself. I’d hate to be the one to break the news to the Inquisitor should anything happen to you.”

On the one hand, it was rather admirable that everyone was rallying around Elden this way. The Inquisitor had definitely earned their respect and friendship. But Dorian was reminded once again how much of an outsider he was here. He turned back to the shelves again and hoped no one else came by to interrupt him.


	5. Chapter 5

"So this is where you've been hiding."

Dorian sat up with a start, knocking the book that had been resting on his lap to the ground. He must have dozed off at some point and he rubbed hurriedly at his face, trying to focus. Varric was standing there looking concerned and watching him expectantly and Dorian just waved him off.

"I haven't been hiding," he protested more sharply than he'd intended, reaching down to pick up his book. "Did you need something?"

"Just checking to see how you're holding up," Varric said and to his credit he did appear genuine.

"I wasn't the one who was stabbed." Dorian stood, not particularly interested in holding a conversation, especially not one about his feelings, and went to search the shelves again for more books.

"No, but you look it." Dorian scoffed, but Varric continued. "I know how much he means to you. You've changed since you met him. No one can fake that."

Dorian bit his lip. Hard. "You may be the only one who believes that," he said, keeping his voice carefully steady.

He didn't want to think about that, about how much he cared and how close he'd come to losing the only thing that had ever truly mattered; the man that inspired him, who cared so much and made Dorian feel things he never thought possible. Dorian was resilient; he could survive anything life threw at him. But if he lost Elden- he wasn't sure how much of himself would be left after something like that.

"Well," Varric said. "If you you want to talk-"

"I don't," Dorian replied sharply.

He listened to Varric's retreating footsteps, echoing slightly through the rotunda. As soon as he heard him pass through the doorway, growing quieter, Dorian slumped forward, leaning heavily against the bookshelf. His eyes burned and he closed them tightly, refusing to feel anything. There would be no more tears. He breathed deeply, shakily, and had only just composed himself when he heard more footsteps approaching. These were heavy and deliberate and he knew it was the Iron Bull before he even reached the top of the stairs. Dorian stood up straight again, selected a book and began to flip through it.

"You're going to want to come with me," Bull said, coming to a halt behind him.

"Oh? And where exactly are we off to? Some empty back passage that a body could easily be hidden or disposed of? Do what the others should have done immediately?" Dorian asked bitterly, but he still tossed his book onto the desk and gestured for Bull to lead the way.

"Believe it or not I actually think you're telling the truth," Bull said calmly. "Like Vivienne said, either you're smarter than all of us or just dumber and no one's  _that_ good."

Dorian sighed, feeling guilty for his outburst. "I suppose i should thank you for that. Where exactly are we going then?" He stopped when he realized they was heading for the infirmary. "You can't be serious. "

"The boss wants you there," he said simply.

"If you're all willing to accept the possibility of blood magic, then you have to have consider the consequences of putting me in the same room as the Inquisitor. I thought you of all people would understand that."

"Of course," Bull said. "That's why Cassandra's there. Make a move and she'll kill you before you've taken a step. Besides, I've seen the boss take down dragons. I'm pretty sure he can handle you now that he's on guard."

"Of course he can but we both know he has a frustrating habit of being a little too trusting. He would have given himself to Corypheus back at Haven if he thought it would have helped.

"That's why we're there," Bull said as he pushed open the door and headed inside.

Dorian hesitated for a moment. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked inside where he found the advisors, Cassandra, Blackwall, and Vivienne already there. Dorian was much too relieved to see Elden up and dressed. And of course the damnable man practically lit up when he caught sight of him entering. Dorian wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that so he settled on grim silence as he turned his attention to the conversation that was already underway.

"-very difficult to prove of course," Vivienne was saying, "but because of it's complexity, usually only one command is given. Now that it has been carried out, he should no longer pose a threat."

"Even though it ultimately failed?" Cassandra asked skeptically. "And how likely is it that something like this could happen again with any of us? Or our army? This could pose a serious problem."

"This is an incredibly complex spell, it is unlikely to be repeated on a wider scale, especially since the Inquisitor's party eliminated the perpetrators" Vivienne said. "Besides, with the amount of work it takes with such a low level of success," here she cast a glance in Dorian's direction, "I highly doubt this will become a common tactic."

"Still," Leliana interjected, "it would be wise to instate some form of interrogation for anyone who has spent any length of time with the Venatori."

"What exactly would that kind of interrogation involve? I don't want our people suffering more once we've gotten them back," Elden said because of course their safety was his priority.

"Of course," Vivienne said. "I have a few ideas, nothing too invasive. I can work with Leliana, Dagna, and a few other trusted mages to sort out the most likely options and present them to you later today."

"Thank you."

Dorian tuned out as the conversation turned to the usual war room talk. He watched Elden instead, the way he listened intently, ready and willing to help despite the fact that he had nearly died only the day before. He didn't look much better than he had the last time he saw him. Dorian planned on yelling at him once the others had left because getting dressed seemed like a pointless waste of energy. Actually, Dorian wanted to yell at all of them for interrupting his rest. Surely this business could wait. He was studying Elden's face when he noticed his eyebrows draw together slightly. What was that? Had he winced?

"You okay, boss?" Bull asked. Obviously he had noticed as well.

Elden wavered before slumping forward, barely catching the windowsill to hold himself up. Bull, Vivienne, and the surgeon were at his side first and Dorian wanted nothing more than to push his way forward, but he didn't. He couldn't. While Bull helped him sit, the others glanced reflexively at Dorian who blanched, looking down at his hands guiltily as if he expected to see another dagger or something equally lethal in his hands. They were empty of course.

"I'm sorry, I'm all right," Elden said, but Vivienne and the surgeon forced him to lie down so they could examine him.

Dorian was fairly certain he forgot to breathe for a few minutes at least. A part of him wished they would drag him away, as guilty as he felt. On the other hand, though, he never wanted to move from this spot until Elden was fine again. Maker, please just let him be fine.

"Poison," Vivienne said and Dorian's mouth went dry. There was a buzzing in his ears and it was so difficult to hear through the terror creeping up his spine "The dagger must have been coated. I'm afraid we need to know what kind in order to administer the proper antidote, otherwise we'll just make matters worse."

None of them needed to point out that poisons were as common in Tevinter as they were in a Crow's pockets. Even if Dorian reached out to his assassin friends there was no guarantee that the Venatori had been using whatever was fashionable in Tevinter at the moment. Nothing about them had seemed fashionable after all.

"Then we need to go back, search the bodies," Cassandra said urgently.

At least they all seemed to be on the same page. And they all seemed to be accepting that Dorian really had gotten the dagger from the Venatori. The question was, did they believe it was blood magic too or did they think he took it from them willingly?

* * *

Despite his better judgement, Dorian remained at Elden's side for the next several hours even as the others came and went. Never alone, of course, he couldn't risk that. Obviously no one else approved, but of course the Inquisitor turned a deaf ear on any complaints and even had the audacity to thank Dorian for staying. Honestly he would have stormed out, but he so desperately needed to know that Elden was okay.

Except that he wasn't. Sure, he was all smile and reassurances, but he was only going to get worse, not better. He was still so pale and if this continued they all knew that, despite Vivienne's potions slowing it, he would eventually simply waste away. Dorian was holding his hand tightly when everyone gathered again.

"We can set out immediately," Cassandra was saying. "You'll be coming with us, Dorian."

He stood slowly, trying to prolong the contact with Elden. He was angry with himself for it, knowing he should distance himself before he made everything worse, but he just wanted to feel his warmth, as fever hot as he was.

"And I'll be coming too," Elden said and they all stopped.

"Inquisitor," Cassandra began.

"No," Vivienne said. "He's right. It would be best if he were present when we find the antidote."

Judging by the solemn silence that followed, everyone understood. They didn't exactly know how much time he had left, but it couldn't be much. Exerting himself wasn't exactly wise, but there may not be enough time for them to find it and get back. They had to risk it so he was on hand when they obtained the antidote.

"Well," Elden said into the silence. "Let's head out then. I know I for one would prefer to get this over with as quickly as possible."

Elden was avoiding looking anyone in the eye and Dorian wanted to kick himself. No doubt he hated having everyone worry about him this way. He certainly appreciated the concern, of course, but in moments like this he felt like a bother. He hated worrying them but Dorian just wished he would accept their damned concern and take care of himself for once, put his own health and safety first for a change. Still, Dorian knew he hated being the center of this sort of attention so he might as well help get things moving.

"Right then," Dorian said, turning to leave. "I guess I'll go prepare. Meet you all in the courtyard in ten?"


	6. Chapter 6

Interestingly enough, no one barred Dorian's way as he headed for the Inquisitor's quarters. He'd need his pack if he was to be traveling out with the Inquisitor's party and that was where he had left it, so he supposed it made sense. He'd need his staff as well, if that hadn't been confiscated yet. It wouldn't surprise him at all if they expected him to face Venatori unarmed. Not that he was helpless without it, but it was the thought that counts.

He was so distracted that it wasn't until he'd grasped the handle to Elden's room that he froze, remembering what he would be facing by entering. He tried not to remember, but he was fighting a losing battle. This was where it had happened, where he had hurt Elden, betraying him, even against his own will, and nearly killing him. He stood there for a long moment, his knuckles turning white he was gripping the handle so tightly. He kept seeing Elden's face, so surprised and in pain, and yet still trying to understand, when-

Dorian shook his head irritably. He couldn't dwell on that now, it was pointless. He had things he needed to do if Elden was to be saved and he needed to remain in the present to do it. He shoved his way into the room so violently that the door banged against the wall. Dorian tried not to wince as he took the stairs two at a time. He hadn't meant to, he'd intended to keep his eyes up and on his destination, but of course he found them wandering to that place on the floor where Elden had fallen.

He came to a sudden stop, staring at the bare floor where a rug had once lay. He should have been thankful, he'd half expected to find a circle of blood staining the place, but somehow seeing the bare floor felt worse. Empty, like a piece taken away permanently, leaving a hole in the world he had once known. Of course he found himself looking too closely until he saw the stains on the wood near the wall where he himself had stood, his hand dripping. Would that always be there? A grisly reminder of all that had happened?

Dorian ripped his eyes away, telling himself it didn't matter and trying to ignore the heavy pit of grief and guilt in his stomach. He'd probably never see it again anyway. How could Elden ever wish for him to return here after everything? That is, if they both even survived this. Dorian was certain that if the Inquisitor died, his life would be forfeit as well, but he wouldn't let it come to that. Dorian would rather die than see Elden fall again.

He stormed forward, keeping his eyes from wandering as he quickly grabbed his equipment and headed to the library to sort and pack. A bottle was sounding better and better, it was a shame there wasn't time. He was so distracted that he nearly ran into Varric in the great hall.

"There you are, I was wondering if you'd left yet," Varric said with a hesitant smile.

"I'm sure everyone in Skyhold knows exactly where to find me at any given moment at this point," Dorian said, shifting uncomfortably. "I do owe you an apology however. How I responded to you last was uncalled for. You were attempting to voice your support and I wouldn't hear it."

"Nah, don't worry about it," Varric said dismissively. "I suppose it wouldn't really be helpful to ask how you're holding up."

"Oh I'm quite well, can't you tell?"

"Apparently I won't be coming along on this trip," Varric said, ignoring his sarcasm. "Just do me a favor and watch out for yourself as well as the Inquisitor. You both better come back in one piece."

"Yes, well," Dorian said, "as much as I appreciate the sentiment, I'm fairly certain it isn't my health you should be concerned with. I'll do what I can for the Inquisitor, however. Now, if you'll excuse me, I rather think I should be going."

Varric looked as if he wished to say more, but Dorian brushed past him quickly. He didn't want to talk anymore. As much as he appreciated the sentiment, it was Elden their focus should be on. And Dorian wasn't sure he could stomach the sympathy right now with the guilt still churning in his gut.

* * *

It felt like more disapproving eyes were on Dorian than usual. Of course, it was entirely possible that that was just his imagination. After all, they were keeping what had happened to Elden a secret to avoid panic, so all the people lined up to see the Inquisitor and his party off couldn't possibly know what Dorian had done. He refused to act as though anything was different so he held his head up high as they rode out. The only thing that could give them away was the distance he kept between himself and Elden. Well, and there was also the suspiciously close eye Cassandra was keeping on him.

Vivienne, Blackwall, and the Iron Bull were also riding with them. To be honest, the entire inner circle would have accompanied them if they could, but their team needed to be small and mobile. Only the bare minimum on this little adventure. With any luck, they'd be able to overtake the Venatori without them noticing. If they'd even stuck around, that is.

Dorian couldn't help the sick fear in his stomach that they had long since moved on. He couldn't stop himself from stealing a concerned glance in Elden's direction at the thought. Thanks to the healers and Vivienne's potions he looked just as vital as usual, but Dorian knew him well enough that he could see the subtle way he'd flinch occasionally. Riding a horse was probably better than walking, but really he should be lying down and moving as little as possible.

Once they were out of sight of the inhabitants of Skyhold, they slowed their pace. Elden was looking more visibly strained the longer they rode, but never once complained. Thankfully, the horses allowed them to cut quite a bit of time off of their journey. Still, it wasn't long until Vivienne called for a halt. Elden tried to object, knowing it was due to him that they were taking things so slowly, but of course no one would hear it.

Elden looked a tad restless as he dismounted and went to stand at the edge of the path, looking out at the mountains. His movements were stiff, and it was obvious that he was attempting to ignore any pain, as if he could will it away. Dorian couldn't help but smile fondly as he watched him. Of course he wished he would go easier on himself, but this was who Elden was and, honestly, it just reminded Dorian why he respected him so much; how he had grown to care so deeply. Still, seeing Elden in pain had him wishing he could shoulder all that weight himself. If he could do anything to lighten his mood at the very least, he would.

"The journey has only begun, I'm afraid we still have quite a bit of distance to go," Dorian said, smiling as he approached. "At least try to take things slow to start."

Dorian reached out and placed a hand on Elden's arm. Before either of them could say anything more, however, Elden flinched at the contact and Dorian backed off quickly, startled. But then he felt so foolish. Did he really think everything between them had simply gone back to normal? That he had any right to even try to get close to the Inquisitor after he had almost killed him? It was true that Elden had repeatedly reached out to him, told him they would be fine, but Elden always pushed himself past his breaking point. Dorian should have kept his distance. Who knows if any of this would truly go back to normal. Elden's eyes went wide, however, and he looked absolutely horrified.

"No," Elden said, reaching out to take his hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Nonsense," Dorian interrupted, trying to brush his concerns aside lightly, stepping back out of his reach. He didn't want Elden to look so upset but he never wanted to risk further harm. "Understandable reaction, could have happened to anyone. Honestly, I'm rather glad you've-"

"What?" Elden interrupted. "Have my guard up? Around you of all people?"

"Well, I did try to kill you." He was painfully aware of Blackwall watching them closely. Probably had his hand on the hilt of his sword, too, but Dorian couldn't tell from this angle.

"No you didn't," Elden snapped, taking Dorian completely by surprise. Elden was so very rarely angry. He sighed, as if to calm himself before he continued. "It wasn't you and I can't- If I can't trust you, who am I supposed to trust? I don't want to live like that. And I definitely don't want to push you away. Please"

Dorian corrupted everything he touched. One only had to look at his life, the burned bridges and those left dead in his wake. Elden knew, but of course he didn't care. Here he was, reaching out to Dorian even after everything that had happened. Elden had almost died, could still die, but he would still risk it all over again, but Dorian couldn't. He couldn't see him hurt again. No matter how desperate Elden looked, how heartbroken and upset, Dorian would rather the Inquisitor end up hating him than see Elden injured again. Or killed.

"Let's move out," Bull called to the small party and Dorian never thought he'd feel so relieved to hear his voice.

"Dorian," Elden pleaded, his hand still extended. All Dorian could do was give him an apologetic smile before he turned to go.


	7. Chapter 7

Dorian couldn’t help but feel uneasy as they approached the cave. It was a ridiculous sentiment, he’d only been conscious for a short while before reinforcements had arrived, it hadn’t been particularly traumatic. Then again, this was where this nightmare had begun. He’d lost time here, nearly an entire day unaccounted for, and he couldn’t help but fear what they might discover. Still, finding nothing would by far be the worse outcome. Dorian prayed that they’d find the poison or, even better, the antidote so this entire business could be wrapped up and put behind them, but he knew none of them were that lucky, himself in particular.

The Iron Bull waited outside with the horses as the rest of them trekked through the snow and into the cave. It was a grim task, but Blackwall and Cassandra began kicking corpses over and searching them while Vivienne, Elden, and Dorian continued on inside. The Inquisitor knelt by the next body they came across and began searching as well.

They left quite the body count in their wake wherever they went, but still Elden treated the fallen reverently, even these Venatori. He’d expressed on more than one occasion regret at the loss of life and a desire to bury the fallen, although it was rarely possible, now especially. Dorian knew this had to be difficult for him. He wanted to kneel beside him, place a hand on his shoulder, but he was afraid to get too close, afraid to see Elden flinch like that again.

Truth be told, he’d been avoiding Elden, keeping out of reach and avoiding eye contact. It was childish perhaps, but every time he saw the sadness there, Dorian wanted nothing more than to pull him close and he couldn’t. He didn’t have the right. Elden had learned firsthand how his touch could burn, it was only right he pulled away. He should be angry, he should blame Dorian for all of this and push him away if only to protect himself. But of course he wouldn’t. Elden was too kind, too understanding, and Dorian hated how easily he had hurt him.

Dwelling was getting him nowhere so instead Dorian continued deeper in. In the back, he found the place they had left him on the hard ground when he’d been held prisoner, charred rope still lying there where it had fallen as well as a few more bodies. He supposed he should actually assist with the search. He flipped the nearest body over, shuffling around until he found something inside the man’s coat. When he pulled it out and saw the dagger in his hand, however, he recoiled, dropping it to the ground like it had burned him, backing away until he hit the wall, breathing hard.

“Dorian?”

He heard Elden’s voice, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of that blade. He recognized it, similar to the one he’d used to-- to stab Elden, but this one was different, huge gemstone eyes boring into him from the engraved skull. Somehow they burned into his skull and he covered his eyes, but the pain only increased. He thought he might be yelling as he doubled over, but he couldn’t tell, his ears ringing and drowning out all else as his skull throbbed.

It felt like there was something lurking at the edges of his mind and suddenly it all flooded in, a memory locked away of agony and pain. There were faces in the darkness, grinning and terrible, that watched, that commanded and taunted. These had to be the true leaders of this group. He knew they had to be human, but they were distorted by pain and perception and he couldn’t help but recoil from them as if they were demons.

Dorian could feel ropes burning his wrist as if he was being restrained even now, and there was that knife in the hand of one of those mages. The blade sliced down his arm, blood flowing onto the floor, so much blood, the room smelling metallic with it, and Dorian wretched at the memory, thankful that his stomach was practically empty anyway. Finally his mind cleared and the pain and ringing finally receded. He just stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily and leaning against the cold stone.

“Dorian?” Elden repeated, close at his side. “Are you all rigth?”

“You’re remembering, aren’t you?” Vivienne asked. “Where were you taken? Where did the ritual happen?”

“A cave?” Dorian said doubtfully, trying to remember, wanting to focus on those flashes of memory but afraid of falling back into them again. The fact that it was in a cave was much too vague to be particularly helpful. He needed to see something, anything, that could give him a clue, but then there was another flash of agony as that knife flayed his stomach and he reeled back, nearly falling to the ground, back in the blessed present.

“Dorian!”

Elden caught him and steadied him as he frantically clawed at his shirt, pulling it up, but he was whole, his stomach unscarred. Had they tortured then healed him to hide the evidence? That was a lot of work to go to. Then again, all this was to assassinate the Inquisitor so perhaps it made sense. In retrospect they all really should have known that Dorian’s rescue was all too easy, his injuries too superficial. Of course there had to be others, all this just a setup to cause them to write this entire thing off as attempted ransom and nothing more.

“I’m fine,” Dorian said after he took a deep breath, composing himself as best as he could as he pushed away from Elden and stood up straight. He tried not to notice the disappointment on Elden’s face. “There were others. I was taken-- somewhere, another cave, bigger. I remember seeing mountains out of the mouth of the cave.” It was frustrating how difficult it was to remember any details. Then again, he’d been a tad preoccupied at the time so the fact that he had anything at all to go on was probably a blessing.

“Doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” Blackwall muttered.

Dorian wasn’t exactly sure when he and Cassandra had joined them but he shot a glare in Blackwall’s direction before he continued. “There were definitely mages. Several. As well as some sort of ritual circle.”

“What kind?” Vivienne asked.

“If I knew, I would have said as much,” Dorian snapped, regretting it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. He could still feel the fear clawing at him, could still remember what it felt like to be sliced into again and again, but it wouldn’t do to lash out at allies. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I apologize. I can’t recall the details. There was definitely blood magic involved but that’s all I’ve got.”

“Unfortunate, but it’s a start,” Cassandra said.

“Are we not going to address the possibility that that was all an act and he’s leading us into a trap?” Blackwall asked, looking skeptical.

“Blackwall, please,” Elden said, but Dorian couldn’t exactly blame the man for being suspicious.

“I’m not sure it matters at this point,” Cassandra said, sending a concerned glance towards Elden. “We’ve finished searching here, let’s get going.”

“Dorian?” Elden was still at his side, so close but not wanting to touch without permission.

“I’m fine,” Dorian said, waving a hand dismissively. His touch was soothing and a part of him wanted to lean into him again, let Elden hold him, support him, but he couldn’t do that now. He couldn’t demand any more from him.

Suddenly Dorian was feeling incredibly claustrophobic here in this small cave with all these people crowding around. He could still hear the taunting voices of those Venatori as they pressed in around him, even if he couldn’t tell what they were saying. He brushed past Elden, heading for the exit, needing to be out in the open so he could breathe again.

As he stepped outside, for once he didn’t mind the freezing wind as it whipped past him. It allowed him to focus on the moment, on his face and ears burning with cold, and push away the memory of blood and pain. Recent events had made him wary of cliff edges, so he stayed on the path, looking out over the valley between mountain peaks and just tried to calm his pounding heart. Bull was nearby with the horses watching, but Dorian ignored him. He stood there with his eyes closed for a long moment, just trying to feel and not think and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Cassandra’s voice beside him.

“I owe you an apology.”

“Oh?” he asked, unable to keep his irritableness out of his voice. “Whatever for?”

It wasn’t directed at her, exactly, and he felt guilty for taking this all out on her. It was just-- everything, really. He felt helpless, being used and manipulated to hurt the Inquisitor, the last person Dorian had ever wanted to harm, the one person he would give his life to protect. Seeing Elden flinch away, reminding him of how Dorian had betrayed him so deeply. And now he could barely trust his own mind. He couldn’t wait to find those responsible so he could tear them apart. Unless, of course, they still held power over him in which case things could go very badly indeed.

“I didn’t even give you a chance to prove yourself,” she explained and thankfully she didn’t seem offended by his tone. “I owed you that at the very least, after everything you’ve done for the Inquisition.”

“It’s fine, Cassandra,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I ended up doing exactly what all the rumors said I would. I don’t blame you for assume my guilt. The knife was in my hand, after all.”

“Still,” she insisted. “I apologize for my brashness, for throwing out whatever trust you’d managed to build thus far.”

“That’s very generous of you,” he said. As much as he appreciated her words, he knew all of this would take time. On both sides. And there were more pressing things to attend to at the moment. “Better not let your guard down just yet. Not until this is over. I could still pose a threat.”

She nodded and they both understood the implication. Elden was the priority. If Dorian was forced to turn on them, it would be up to the others to make sure the Inquisitor was safe. Glancing up, Dorian could see Elden nearby watching apprehensively. It was obvious he wanted to approach but was unsure if he would be welcome.

The space was appreciated, but he hated this entire situation. And he hated that Elden was still being so thoughtful and generous. They were both here, hurting and in need of any sort of support, but instead it felt like there was a chasm opening up between them. And it was Dorian’s fault. There was nothing he could say, no way he could make this all right, so instead he turned and began trudging through the snow as they all headed out.

* * *

 

They were to meet Leliana’s scouts so once they reached the designated location they set up camp and waited. Dorian pulled out his notebook and closed his eyes, trying to recall that view out the mouth of the cave in his memory. It was difficult, having it interspersed with flashes of agony, but he just tried to focus, drawing the mountains as best he could. He was only half paying attention, but when the scouts arrived, he overheard them relaying the most likely locations that the Venatori could be held up. They kept close watch on large sections of the mountain range to ensure safe passage, so that at least narrowed down the possibilities. Now they’d have to rely on chance more than anything, picking a direction and just hoping they got lucky and stumbled across a hideout.

Dorian couldn’t help but glance over at Elden who was standing by himself watching the gentle snowfall. He was hunched slightly, arms around himself and Dorian wished he wasn’t turned away so he could properly see his face. He didn’t look cold, perhaps he was in pain? Vivienne approached him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to get his attention so she could pass him a vial to drink from.

Dorian wanted to just damn it all and go to Elden as well, wrap his arms around him and just hold him tight, reassure him, do anything he could to ease the pain just as Elden had done for him so many times. But he couldn’t. He kept remembering how Elden had flinched away and, honestly, focusing on those memories of torture somehow felt less painful. So, he looked back down at his notebook and continued to sketch.

* * *

 

By the time they had a route planned out, it was growing dark so they settled in for the night. There would be no sleeping anytime soon for Dorian so he sat with his legs drawn up close, staring moodily into the fire, grateful that the others had either retired for the night or were off keeping watch. He never did well when left alone with his thoughts, so of course they strayed to Elden as they often did.

Dorian had been the one cut open in those reawakened memories, but all throughout had been a sense of urgency and a great concern for Elden’s safety. They’d been trying to get him to harm Elden (trying and ultimately succeeding he reminded himself) so he supposed it was warranted. There had been so much blood in his memories, but as he stared down at his hands, it was Elden’s blood that came to mind, dripping down and staining him, and he could still hear the quiet sound he’d drawn from Elden, the way he’d gasped for air like he couldn’t get enough as he slumped to the ground. He wrenched his eyes away and looked back into the embers in the fire.

It was looking less and less likely that they would find the antidote in time. What were they supposed to do then? Just watch as Elden withered away in front of them? Dorian would likely be haunted by what he had done, blood magic or no, for the rest of his life. If it actually led to Elden’s death, what was he supposed to do then? How was he supposed to live with that, knowing that he himself had destroyed someone he respected and cared so deeply for? How had any of this happened?

He nearly jumped when footsteps brought him back to the present, but for once he was grateful for the interruption. Unfortunately it turned out to be Elden. He sat close beside him, too close, and Dorian resisted the urge to move away. True, distance between them was the last thing he wanted right now, but there was still so much hurt there. Would he ever stop feeling like a threat to Elden?

“The stars look nice,” Elden said and Dorian barked out a short, bitter laugh. He couldn’t help himself. It was just so like Elden to want to talk about stars when everything was falling apart around them.

“That’s it, then?” he asked. “That’s all you have to say?”

“No, but I didn’t think you wanted to talk about anything else,” Elden said, unphased by his reaction.

“What exactly is there that hasn’t already been said?”

“The avalanche-- I thought I’d lost you then. I don’t want to lose you again after everything. Please don’t push me away like this,” Elden said, sounding so heartbroken as he tentatively placed his hand over Dorian’s where it rested on the ground between them. His movements were so hesitant, giving Dorian plenty of time to pull away. He should have, but now that he had that contact he was reminded of just how desperately he’d missed it

He studied their hands clasped together for a long moment. Should he weigh the risks? Determine if they were stronger together or apart, even if it put one of them at risk? Would it still be worth it if they destroyed each other in the end? But perhaps none of that truly mattered. Neither of them could simply stop caring. And if this was it, if Elden didn’t live out the week, Dorian would hate himself for pushing him away when all he wanted to do was pull him close and do whatever he could to make him smile. He sighed heavily before bringing Elden’s hand to his lips briefly.

“Then tell me what I’m supposed to do,” Dorian said, feeling so tired.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I want you to be by my side,” Elden said earnestly.

“Until I actually manage to kill you or the poison succeeds, right?” Dorian said grimly, wishing he hadn’t spoken at all. Why did he have to make this so difficult? And why was Elden still making it so easy?

“Stop blaming yourself,” Elden said. “This wasn’t your fault.”

Dorian had nothing to say to that that wouldn’t end in an argument and he was just so tired. “I’m sorry,” he said instead. “All I’ve done lately is hurt you. And I’m selfish enough to still want to be here with you. A better man would probably stay away.”

“Then what does that make me?” Elden asked, bumping his shoulder lightly with a sad smile. “I must be far worse because I’m selfish enough to want this as well. I hate seeing you put yourself through this though. I just-- I don’t want to see you go through this alone. And, frankly, I don’t want to go through it alone either.”

Dorian leaned into him and Elden immediately wrapped his arms around him. Right now, Dorian wanted nothing more than to feel Elden, his warmth and his heartbeat as he enveloped him. It eased the agony brought on by those reawakened memories as well as reassure him that Elden was here, still alive and with him. Perhaps not safe for the moment, not while poison ran in his veins, but at least he was alive in this moment. That meant there was hope. And Dorian would do whatever he could to make sure Elden got through this.


End file.
